Page 19

Chapter 19

Savior

HANS

B riar stands up, dripping our cum, and throws her head back.

A haunting melody fills the air as the wind kicks up. It dances around us, leaves and sticks riding the breeze as it circles her. When we lock eyes, hers are entirely white.

“Think about where we need to go,” she says. Her voice is more resonant than I’ve ever heard it. Gone is the woman who rambled, who made herself smaller.

A transformation is happening right in front of us.

I picture Greenbell and the house Gerrit and I share. I think of the tavern across the street from it and how Father’s house is just a short walk away.

When Briar touches my hand, I startle at how cold they are.

“Gerrit, take my other hand.” My stepbrother doesn’t question anything. He gathers our bags and Briar’s pants in one hand and takes hers with the other.

“Wait, Flint,” I say, looking around. No sooner do I get the words out than the familiar comes bounding out of the woods. He has no food, but that’s not my concern right now.

Briar exhales heavily, and the trees in front of us move as if running out of our way. She takes a step, and we follow, but each step seems to cover the ground of hundreds, and each breath clears our path.

We continue like this for fifteen minutes before Briar pulls us to a stop right at the forest’s edge.

Right outside of a sleeping Greenbell.

“We covered so much ground,” I murmur, looking around with wonder. “How?”

“My magic is interesting. I was able to draw some of your earthen magic to encourage the land to clear our path, and I was able to multiply our steps with no effect on our bodies.” She drops our hands, eyes returning to the striking red color they’ve become since she started feeding regularly. The succubus takes her pants from Gerrit and slides them on while looking at the darkened buildings on the outskirts of Greenbell.

“This is a town, huh?” she asks quietly.

“Part of one. Not as many people live on the edges. It gets denser the further inward you go.” I reach down and pet Flint, opening my mind to see if he has anything to say.

He doesn’t, surprisingly.

His intelligent eyes sparkle as he looks at the three of us.

“When should we go see your father?” Briar asks both of us. “I don’t know for sure, but I think I can handle the sun now. My magic will protect me.”

“My mother will be sleeping at the house with him. Do you need access to her or…?” Gerrit trails off, suddenly looking green.

It is suddenly sinking in that we are probably going to have to let his mother die to save my father.

It was one thing to discuss in theory, but now that we see what Briar can do, that seems to be the likely outcome.

“Hm,” she muses, leaning against a tree. “What do you think, Flint?”

My familiar perks his ears up and quirks his head to the side before projecting to Briar and me. “If she is there, you will likely have to fight her off to break the curse. Better to first attempt without her and then wait for her to return if it turns out you need her.”

After relaying the response to Gerrit, Briar nods solemnly. “I think you’re right, Flint. We’ll see what we can do tomorrow when she is not home.”

Gerrit swings her arm over her shoulders and begins to steer her towards our home. “Come, we all need some rest. We can figure the rest out tomorrow.”

* * *

Briar is a vision in the royal blue dress I found for her at the market this morning. I slipped out before she woke and found the nicest one I could afford and a pair of hard-bottomed slippers.

The ‘V’ of the neck is scalloped, and the bell sleeves are made of a gauzy fabric that falls to her wrists. It hits just above her shoes and moves like water around her. Gerrit gave her a bejeweled hairpin, and her lavender locks have been pinned away from her face.

She looks every bit the proper lady. You’d never know she was a demon who had been trapped in a prison in the woods for an undefinable amount of time.

I knock on the wooden door of my childhood home, nerves curling in my gut.

I love my father. I don’t want him to die, and my stepmother, for all her faults, doesn’t want him to, either.

I was the original target of this curse.

It’s why I have felt so responsible about fixing this and saving him from this fate.

His butler, Walter, opens the door and steps back with a smile. “Master Hans! Master Gerrit! What a wonderful surprise.” His gaze lands on Briar, who blushes and ducks her head. “Who is this lovely creature?”

We walk in, Flint sticking beside Briar, and I pat the old man on the shoulder. “That’s Briar. She’s quite special, and we wanted to introduce her to Father. How is he doing?”

Walter’s face falls. “The Duke has had a rough few days. Master Gerrit, your mother just left if you’d like me to send someone to call her back.”

“No need,” Gerrit says with a wave of his hand. “We’ll catch up soon. We’d like to see Father now.”

Walter leads us down the long hallway lined with art and family portraits. When he opens the door at the end and we step in, my heart sinks.

My father has always been a formidable figure, but he looks weak and small in that bed. His skin is nearly translucent, cracked, and drying all over. His once lustrous dark hair is flat and greasy.

When he opens his eyes and sees us, the whites are yellow.

But he still smiles broadly and manages to sit up. I rush to assist him.

“My boys, this is such a surprise. I heard you were out on an adventure.” His voice is raspy from disuse, and it makes my heart ache.

I know we had to leave, had to find Briar, but guilt still fills me at leaving him when he is so sick. What if we hadn’t made it back in time?

“We’re back now,” I tell him, resting my hand on his.

“Flint brought you home, I see. From the moment I met your familiar, I knew you could always trust him to take where you needed to go.” Flint squeezes against the side of the bed and noses my father, who gives him an affectionate little pat.

“But Gerrit, you brought back something, I see.” His eyes land on Briar, where she stands next to my stepbrother. She chews her bottom lip, looking nervous and slightly overwhelmed. Gerrit places a hand on her lower back, hauling her closer.

“Yes, Father,” he says, “this is Briar. She’s very special.”

“She must be for you to bring her to meet me.” His face breaks into a heartbreaking smile that is undoubtedly how he convinced my mother to marry him. “Tell me about yourself, my girl.”

We discussed this before we came.

We all want to be honest with father. We want to tell him the truth of why Briar is here and what we think is happening to him.

When Briar perches on the side of the bed and takes his hand, I hold my breath and hope he believes us.